Chapter 16

/"There's a place, that I know. It's not pretty there and few have ever gone. If I shown it to you now, will it make you run away?"/

"You have a sister?" Kyle asked, seeming taken aback by Cartman's admission. The Commandant merely rolled his eyes and tried his hardest to not sigh in aggravation.

"Yes Kahl, a sister. I didn't think I stuttered when I said it." It was Kyle's turn to roll his eyes and as he did so he nudged Cartman's shoulder with his own.

"Smartass. I just didn't expect it, you don't exactly talk about yourself you know. You know quite a bit about my life before the camp, but I know nothing about you. You're pretty much a closed book." Cartman chuckled and looked Kyle dead in the eye.

"And yet knowing nothing about me, you somehow care about me?" It wasn't a question, it was a fact. Cartman knew he cared about Kyle, and he sure as hell knew Kyle cared long before he did. A smile came to his face when he saw Kyle's face instantly turn the exact color of his own hair.

"I didn't say that fatass!" Kyle snapped turning his flushed face away from the Commandant.

"Whatever you say, Jew," Cartman said with a smirk. He knew it was true when he stood back and thought about it. Even though Kyle only knew him as 'The Commandant of a concentration camp,' he still seemed to want to be around him and care about him.

Just because he doesn't know your past doesn't mean he doesn't know the real Eric.

Cartman smiled at the thought. That was true. These past few months Kyle was bringing out the good in him, the real him, the Eric he always wanted to be. "Do you think," Kyle started softly, turning his attention back to the framed photo. "that you will ever open up to me? I know you don't trust Jews, but maybe you could try to trust me." He never looked at Cartman, but Cartman looked at him, with an almost shocked expression. Didn't Kyle know by now that he did trust him? Had he not made that clear the more time they spent together? Well, he shouldn't be that surprised, he wasn't exactly good at expressing himself.

Cartman sighed and slipped his hand into Kyle's, lacing them together as if it was the most natural thing to do. "I do trust you, Kyle." He heard Kyle gasp, it was faint, but he heard it; clearly he didn't know that Cartman trusted him. Kyle gave him a smile and squeezed his hand.

"I think that's the first time you've ever addressed me by my actual name." Again Kyle blushed. "It sounds good, coming from you," Kyle said, rubbing his thumb against Cartman's hand.

"Well if you like it then I probably shouldn't ever say it again," Cartman said with a smirk, and in turn Kyle laughed.

"Fatass."

"Jew."

Minutes passed in silence, a silence they were both comfortable with. Kyle was not asking nor pressuring Cartman to spill his life's story, and for that Cartman was very grateful. That being said, he did feel that maybe he should open up to Kyle, that he could open up to Kyle. After all if there was one person he would want to confide in, it would definitely be Kyle. Kyle opened up to him about many past times in his life, perhaps it was time Cartman reciprocated. "I'll bet you think that I was a pretty good kid before I signed up for the regime," Cartman started, looking straight ahead at the burning fireplace in front of them; he saw Kyle look at him from his peripheral but he kept his attention forward. "Well I wasn't. I was always rotten, even as a child. My mother was rarely ever home, and when she was she spoiled me. I guess to make up for hardly ever being there."

"Did her job keep her that busy to where she couldn't spend time with her son?" Kyle asked in bewilderment. Cartman threw his head back in a laugh, but not one of amusement, but rather mock hysterics.

"A job? If you wanna call it that I suppose. My mother was, what's a nice way to put this? She was an "escort" if you will, a top dollar "escort"." Cartman made sure to apply air quotes when saying the word "escort" in hopes that Kyle would understand what he was getting at. From the look of acknowledgment on Kyle's face, he knew exactly what he meant. Simply put his mother was an expensive whore. "As I said when she was home she spoiled me and I in turn became a brat. I was as close to a "snobby rich boy" as you can get. She gave me anything and everything I wanted. My mother loved me, but I don't think she knew how to love me in the right way; a healthy way. I don't mean food, although she kept me very well fed; too much. Believe it or not I wasn't always this big boned and muscular," Cartman said flexing his opposite arm, an action that made Kyle shake his head with a small laugh.

"I was constantly bullied for my weight, but not only for that but because of what my mother did. Everyone knew, no one was stupid. I was always called the "son of the neighborhood whore" and people always told me that my mother didn't even know who my father was because she slept with so many men. Wouldn't that make anyone angry? I myself thought so, and what happened? I lashed out, picked fights, and became very bitter." The Commandant was thankful that Kyle was listening rather than talking, Cartman didn't think he could stop now that he was actually saying all of this.

"Irisviel, Iris, was a few years older than me and she was more of a mother to me than a sister. When my mother wasn't around, Iris was the one who took care of me and tried to raise me. She was more of a mother to me than my own mother. She always made sure I had lunch to take to school, she would make sure I always made my bed, that I brushed my teeth, and that I picked up after myself." Cartman released Kyle's hand and leaned forward on the couch, resting his elbows on his knees and wrung his hands together.

"I was so cruel to her. Because my mother had spoiled me, I fought Iris every step of the way. I would yell and do anything I could to get out of anything she wanted me to do, but Iris would never yell back. I loved her, I was just too spoiled to see what she was trying to do would have been good for me. She didn't have the chance to be a normal teenager because she had to raise me."

Kyle placed the picture frame back on the table and moved closer to Cartman.

"Your sister really cared about you."

Cartman nodded. "She did and I was an idiot. If I got into a fight at school she was the one to come pick me up, never my mother; the school could never even reach my mother. Iris would lecture me about my behavior, but never ever raised her voice. If I was being bullied, she would step in to defend me and put a stop to it. Iris would always be the one to do what my mother couldn't." While Cartman focused ahead of them, Kyle wrapped his arm through Cartman's and leaned into him.

"Didn't your mother see the pressure she was doing to Iris?" Kyle asked curiously. Cartman rolled his eyes and groaned in annoyance.

"My mother treated Iris worse than I ever did because she barely ever acknowledged her existence. Even though I was a first class twat, I still knew she was my sister and I did love her. But Mom, it was like Iris was invisible to her. It hurt Iris, I could see it a few times in her eyes, but she would smile at me like there was nothing wrong. Iris made me her first priority, never herself or her feelings."

"Why would your mother treat her so differently?" Kyle asked seeming shocked at the knowledge. Cartman rolled his shoulders and let out an exasperated sigh.

"I never found out. I came to hate my mother after Iris was killed; I came to hate a lot of things after she was killed." Cartman paused, he wanted to get his bearings before he completely delved into the events of his sister's death. It seemed Kyle sensed his stress because he found his hand again through his arm and squeezed it.

"If you're not ready to tell me you don't have to. You've already told me so much, that alone means a lot to me." The side of Cartman's lips curled into a smile, it was weak, but it was a smile.

"It's okay Kyle, I'm ready."

Kyle nodded his head and rested it on Cartman's shoulder and again squeezed his hand.

"I've got you."

Cartman smiled and began. "Iris only yelled at me one time, and it was the day she died."

/

September 16th, 1933

"Eric, eat your spinach," Irisviel said while washing the dishes she used to cook with. Nine year old Eric Cartman pouted at his place at the table.

"I don't want my spinach! It tastes like shit!" he cursed pushing his spinach to the side of his plate.

"Eric, don't curse. It's very rude," Iris said calmly as she rinsed a plate and put it in the dish rack on the counter. Cartman put his elbow on the table and pouted into his fist. "Elbows off the table, Eric."

Cartman glared at her back as he took his elbows off the table, wondering how she always knew what he was doing without ever actually seeing him do it. Cartman was about to finish his spinach when he heard someone come in the door. Saved! Cartman shoved his chair out from under him and took off for the living room. "Eric get back here and finish your greens!" But he didn't listen.

His mother and a man, a Jewish man named Max Weinstein came into the house. Usually the men that came into the house were grumpy and assholes, but Cartman liked Max because he always brought him a gift or lots of candy. "Hi Max," Cartman said excitedly, wanting whatever Max brought for him that day.

While his mother was busy putting away their hats and coats, Max turned to Cartman and got down to his level. "There's my strapping young lad," he said, putting his hand on the small of Cartman's back and rubbed it. "Have you been a good boy Eric? Only good boys get treats," Max said smiling to the boy. Cartman nodded and bounced on the balls of his feet.

"Duh. Now gimme gimme," Cartman said eagerly, holding out his hands waiting for his gift. Max laughed and gave Cartman the bag he was carrying.

"The best chocolates I could find, just for you, Eric." But before Cartman could take them, he felt himself being yanked away and the bag of chocolates snatched out of his grasp. He was now standing behind his sister and looked up to see her amber eyes blazing at Max.

"Eric hasn't finished his dinner and he isn't allowed sweets before bed. Eric, go wash up for bed," Iris demanded, keeping her eyes locked on Max, making sure Cartman remained behind her.

"But I'm not tired and I want chocolate!" Cartman was attempting a tantrum, but it fell short seeing how serious his sister was being.

"Now, Eric!" Cartman was thrown back, she had never once yelled at him and it actually hurt the small boy. Instead of crying, he did what he always did-he lashed out.

"You suck Iris! I hate you!" Cartman turned and ran upstairs to his room, making sure to slam the door behind him. Not long after he heard yelling and screaming from downstairs; his mother and Iris were fighting. His mother hardly ever acknowledged Iris, but when she did they always ended up fighting. Not wanting to hear the fight, Cartman threw himself on his bed and tried to muffle the noise by covering his head and ears with his pillow.

Later he found that he couldn't sleep, so instead he sat up on the edge of his bed reading a book by the lamp on his bedside table, holding his Clyde-Frog stuffed animal in one arm. Sometime later someone entered his room unannounced. "Go away Iris," he said bitterly never looking away from his book.

"It's me, Eric, I came to check on you. I know how upset you were earlier." It was Max. Max came over and sat right next to him on the bed. "I wanted to make sure my favorite boy was alright," Max said in a whisper, a whisper that for some reason sent a chill down his spine.

"I'm fine," Cartman said with as much attitude as he could, hoping Max would stop acting weird. Of course he did the opposite.

"I know you are, you're such a strong boy Eric," Max said, placing both his hands on Cartman's shoulders and he immediately tensed at the contact. "Very strong shoulders," he repeated, this time firmly massaging them. Cartman found that he was frozen, he couldn't move even though he was highly uncomfortable.

"Max, stop," Cartman demanded, but it came out more as a plea.

"I just wanna make you feel good Eric, don't you want to feel better?" Max whispered in his ear, his breath freezing the blood in his veins; Max trailed a hand down from his shoulder to his stomach, and then even lower.

"No! No, go away!" Cartman yelled, pulling away from Max and tried to run for the door, but Max was faster. He grabbed the boy around the waist and flung him on the bed as if he weighed nothing. Max quickly pinned his arms above his head and pressed his knee between his legs.

"Be a good boy now Eric, we don't want to wake anyone or they might get hurt and you wouldn't want that, would you Eric?" It was a threat. A threat that if he yelled for help Max would hurt his mother and sister. Cartman stopped writhing and surrendered to Max, tears forming in his eyes. "Good boy Eric. Now relax and let me make you feel good," Max whispered releasing one of his hands and returned it the spot in between Cartman's legs.

Before Cartman had a chance to close his eyes, he witnessed someone smashing the base of his lamp into the side of Max's head. "Iris!" Cartman yelled throwing himself in his sister's arms, clinging to her in absolute fear and gratitude.

"That hurt you fucking bitch!" Max cursed on the floor, writhing in pain and clutching the bleeding spot on his temple.

"Eric come on. We're leaving, hurry now." They didn't stop to pack a single thing, there was no time. They just needed to get away from Max. Iris held tight to Cartman's small hand as they ran out of his room and headed for the stairwell.

"I'll make you pay for that you bitch!" They heard Max yell and as Cartman looked back he saw that Max had staggered to his door.

"Don't look back Eric," he heard Iris say, and he obeyed. A big mistake that to this day he regretted. Just as Cartman and Iris reached the top of the stairwell a gunshot rang out.

He heard Iris cry out in pain, released his hand and fell roughly down the stairs. Time seemed to slow down in that moment for Cartman as he looked down at his sister's unmoving body, a pool of blood forming underneath her; the sound of the gunshot still ringing in his ears. He only came back to reality when he saw her stir slightly. "Iris!" Cartman yelled and flew down the stairs faster than he ever had before and bent down at her side.

Cartman was frantic, he had no idea what to do. He should stop the bleeding first right? A rag! He needed a rag! "Eric." He heard his sister whisper, a whisper that calmed his hysterics. Cartman looked down at his sister, not even trying to hide the tears that were falling down his face. Iris did what she always did, she smiled at him. She reached a bloody hand up and placed it gently on his chubby cheek. "I'm sorry." And that was the last thing Irisviel said to her brother before her hand fell back to her side and she moved no more.

"Iris? Iris!" Cartman screamed, thinking maybe if she heard him screaming she would come back. His mourning was short lived for Max yanked Cartman to his feet by the collar of his shirt.

"We're not finished kid!" Max roughly said, apparently not caring that he just committed murder. Cartman saw the gun poking out of the top of his pants and reacted on instinct. The younger boy rushed at Max, shoving him to the ground, grabbing a hold of the gun when he did so. Cartman now stood before him holding the gun at the ready; he wasn't even shaking because pure adrenaline rushed through him. Cartman didn't even give a chance for Max to stand up before he pulled the trigger. It was a clean shot to the head and Max didn't move again.

Cartman dropped the gun, dropped back down to his knees and returned to his deceased sister. "What is going on down here?" He vaguely heard his mother say at the top of the stairs. "Max!" Liane Cartman ran down the stairs and scooped up the dead Jew in her arms and cradled him as if losing a soul mate. Cartman looked on in horror and disgust that she chose a monster like him over her daughter, her daughter that was now dead. From that moment on he vowed he would hate his mother.

Cartman looked down at his sister, almost sad that her beautiful black hair was now soaked in her own blood. How could this happen? Why would God allow this to happen? She didn't deserve this! It was too soon! Too soon! Cartman folded his arms over his sisters chest and cried over her dead body; if his mother wasn't going to mourn her he damn sure was. He wasn't about to leave her alone, even if she was dead.

He cried and cried, wishing more than anything that this was a dream and that Iris would wake him up and they could continue living together. But this wasn't a dream. His sister was dead. He had a vague recollection of the police and paramedics arriving and didn't move from her body, even when they asked him to. In fact they had to physically pry him from her corpse. "No! No I won't leave her!" Cartman cried in heart breaking agony, fighting against one of the paramedics to get back to his sister.

"Come on son, there's nothing more you can do. She's gone." That made him lose it even more, someone else confirming that his sister was gone. Cartman completely broke.

/

"Cartman…" Kyle whispered in disbelief, fighting back his own tears from the story. He never imagined that Cartman, The Nazi Commandant, went through so much pain. He had gone through so much, too much, especially for a child. Cartman bolted up from his spot on the couch and began to pace with tears in his eyes.

"She said 'I'm sorry!' I'm sorry? What was she sorry for? She never did anything wrong! I was the one who always did something wrong! Why would she say that?" Kyle stood up, but kept his distance, knowing Cartman was talking more to himself than him. Perhaps he was saying things that have been on his mind for years and now he could finally say them.

"Cartman-" Kyle started calmly, but Cartman talked right over him. He continued to pace, in a trance like state, one hand in his hair tugging at his brown locks.

"One of the last things I said to her was 'I hate you' and I screamed it at her! I told her that I hated her! She died thinking I hated her! I didn't hate her she was my sister! I loved her!" He continued to rant and yell and Kyle could see that it was getting out of hand and if it didn't stop Cartman might end up hurting himself. But he knew he wouldn't listen to him the way he was. So Kyle tried a different approach.

Kyle grabbed Cartman by the cheeks, yanked him forward, and connected their lips. He faintly heard him gasp, but when he didn't push away, Kyle kept them connected. After a moment he felt Cartman relax against him, even putting his hands on Kyle's boney waist and pulled him closer. Kyle didn't retreat, he initiated the kiss after all. He slid his hands from his cheeks to wrap around Cartman's neck when the kiss deepened between them. He never imagined that kissing him would feel so good, so right. If Kyle ever doubted that there was something between them, all that doubt went out the window in this moment. There was definitely something between them, something powerful and almost magical, and he sure as hell knew Cartman felt it too.

They only broke the kiss because they needed to come up for air, but they remained close, still connected with their arms. Cartman pressed his forehead to Kyle's and he gave a shaky laugh. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to kiss you." Kyle returned his little laugh with one of his own.

"Let it be known that I made the first move."

Cartman kissed him again.

"And I made the second," Cartman said when he pulled out of the kiss.

"Let's sit back down," Kyle suggested with a smile on his rosy face. Cartman nodded, but before moving he gave Kyle another quick peck on his lips.

They were back on the couch, but this time Cartman was laying down, with his head on Kyle's lap; he didn't seem to be bothered by how boney his body was. "Were you arrested?" Kyle asked, wondering what happened next. Cartman nodded into his lap.

"I was, but I told them exactly what happened and the court ruled in self defense. I guess it also helped that I was granted a full pardon by someone higher up."

"Who?"

"The Führer." Kyle's green eyes widened in shock. "Of course back then he wasn't Führer yet, only Reich Chancellor, but he still had enormous influence. You wanna know the messed up part?" Cartman said with amusement in his tone. "My mother didn't even attend my sister's funeral, but The Führer did. Adolf Hitler came to show his condolences to a complete stranger when her own birth mother wouldn't." Cartman's bottom lip trembled and Kyle realized that had clearly been eating away at him for years. "You know, The Führer stayed after the funeral just to talk to me. Do you know what he told me?" Cartman asked him, though Kyle knew it was more rhetorical than anything.

"I can't begin to imagine." He really couldn't when it came to the Führer of Germany, the very reason Kyle was trapped in his place. Cartman looked up at the ceiling with his head still in Kyle's lap and Kyle noticed something in his eyes-a twinkle, almost like a spark of happiness.

"The Führer himself told me that he was proud of me. My mother never even told me that she was ever proud of me. Iris did, but being the brat I was I never cared because she was just my sister. Wasn't she supposed to say things like that? But The Führer, a complete stranger, telling me how proud he was of me. He told me how proud he was that I had killed a Jew being so young. Yes I understand now that he was proud of me for the wrong reason, but back then I didn't care. He was giving me praise, praise that I craved. He also told me that there was a place in his youth where I would fit in perfectly. As soon as I was of age I enlisted, leaving my mother behind. Finally in the regime I felt like I belonged somewhere, like I was finally good at something." The spark from Cartman's eyes now disappeared and he looked genuinely upset. "I won't lie to you Kyle, I wanted to make Jews pay, all of them. Because of what happened that night I hated them all, and my hatred for the Jews seemed to be validated by The Führer's propaganda."

Should Kyle really be mad him after everything he learned? Perhaps he should be, but he couldn't bring himself to feel any anger. While none of this was an excuse for what was going on in the camps and the war, Kyle understood and he sympathized with the Commandant. He lost his sister because of a Jew, a Jew who molested him, and he murdered him all in one night. Wouldn't that affect anyone? He couldn't imagine if that soldier had killed Ike earlier. Would Kyle turn down the same path as Cartman?

His mother was a whore who neglected her daughter, spoiled her son, and seemed to care about her "clients" more than her own family. He was bullied for his weight, because he didn't know who his father was, and because of the scandalous activities his mother partook in every day. Then, the only bit of happiness that he felt was in the army, where he finally felt accepted. But Kyle had to ask himself, was Cartman really happy being a Nazi Commandant? He really didn't think so.

Kyle brought a hand up to Cartman's hair and began to stroke it back. "You know Cartman, hearing how you spoke of your sister, hearing what she was like, it was clear she loved you. That being said, I think I know why her last words to you were I'm sorry." That seemed to break his musings and he looked up at Kyle in bewilderment. He didn't say anything, he merely looked at Kyle waiting for his answer. "I believe she was apologizing because she knew she would no longer be around to protect you. You said it yourself, Iris always put you first, and now she was no longer able to. She may have thought in that moment she was failing you." Kyle saw the tears immediately swell up in the Commandant's eyes. Cartman rolled onto his side facing Kyle, and silently cried into his hip. Kyle naturally allowed this and remained quiet while he had his moment; the whole while he was still petting Cartman's brown locks.

A while later Cartman's soft cries stopped and he sat up on the couch, wiping at his eyes. "You know, I could kill you for seeing me cry, Jew boy." Kyle couldn't help but laugh at that.

"Could you really?" Kyle asked in a teasing manner. Cartman gave a shaky laugh.

"No, I really couldn't. You mean too much to me." That made Kyle blush again. For a man who claimed to be filled with so much hate, he sure could say things that made his heart beat fast.

"You too," Kyle said softly, his gaze avoiding the Commandant. His eyes came upon the tumbler of whiskey on a cart in the corner. "Would you like a drink? I think you've earned one," Kyle said, getting off the couch and walking over to the cart. Luckily there were two glasses left that Cartman hadn't smashed earlier. He poured two glasses and returned to Cartman's side on the couch. "Cheers," he said clinging his glass against Cartman's, and he noticed he was staring at him for some reason. "What?" Cartman only chuckled and shook his head.

"Nothing Jew." Even though he didn't believe him, Kyle let it go and took a sip of the liquid. He was very surprised by the contents.

"This isn't whiskey." Cartman was laughing on his side of the couch, almost hysterically.

"No, its not, Jew. God you should have seen your face!" Cartman now wiped the tears of laughter from his eyes.

"Apple juice? Why apple juice?" Kyle asked in wonder. He would have surely thought there would be alcohol in a Villa with Nazis. The change the Commandant made from hysterical laughter, to dead beat seriousness, shook Kyle a bit.

"Not only was my mother a whore, but she was an alcoholic and a drug addict," Cartman said looking at the liquid in his glass. "My entire life I have tried to avoid turning out like my mother. I vowed I would never drink nor try any type of drug. Apple juice is the closest thing that looks like alcohol so that my comrades think I'm this sophisticated Commandant. No one is actually brave enough to accept a drink from me so no one ever found out it's actually juice. You're the first Kyle. The first of several things actually," he said giving Kyle a smile.

"How so?" Kyle asked keeping their eyes locked.

"You were my first kiss Kyle." Kyle hadn't expected that admission, but it did make his insides flutter and he had probably the most goofy looking smile on his face.

"You were mine too," Kyle whispered turning his attention back to the table in front of them. He liked Rebecca, but he never felt the urge to kiss her. Not like Cartman, whose lips constantly called to him the more time they spent together. His eyes came back to the picture of Cartman and Irisviel on the table. In this moment realization hit him like a ton of bricks. "Wait-wait!" Kyle snatched up the picture again and held it very close to his face. "No way!" Kyle snapped his head to Cartman, who sat there with a smirk on his face. "You're the boy with the blue beanie and yellow poof?!" Kyle asked in raw disbelief, the revelation shocking him to his core.

"I was waiting for you to make that connection. Took you way longer than I thought," Cartman said with such a smug expression.

"You knew! How long have you known?!" Cartman rubbed his chin and rolled his shoulders.

"Don't get your britches in a twist Kahl. It's not like I knew the moment I captured you, I swear. I found out when you told me about how you became a dancer. I put it together from the story you told me. I can understand if you hate me now, I told you I was horrible back then." But Kyle didn't hate him, just the opposite. Kyle put down his glass and the picture, and then launched himself at Cartman. His arms found their way around his neck again and he pulled him into a kiss.

Cartman didn't protest, he dropped his glass seeming un-phased when it shattered on the hardwood floor, and pulled Kyle into his lap, indulging in the kiss. Kyle loved how blissful it felt to kiss Cartman, to have his body pressed so close to his. Kissing him was probably, no, definitely a taboo, but with how right it felt, he didn't care one single bit.

Kyle was the first to pull away and he smiled staying close to Cartman. "You were the reason I became a dancer. You gave me the drive to go for my dream and because I wanted to prove you wrong, I never gave up on that dream. Do you think it was coincidence that you were the reason I became a dancer, and then dancing brought us together again now?" Cartman gave a mock sneer.

"Oh jesus, you're not about to lay some fate and destiny crap on me are you?" But they both laughed, and Kyle playfully gave a swat to Cartman's chest. Kyle wiggled out of Cartman's grasp and stood up, extending his hand to the Commandant.

"Dance with me. No lesson, no strings, just dance with me." Cartman didn't even hesitate to take Kyle's hand and he pulled him to his feet.

They got into their normal stance, but instead of being an arms length away from Cartman, he stood against him, with his head resting on his shoulder. A smile came to his face when Cartman nuzzled his head into the tops of his red curls. Kyle closed his eyes and started swaying with Cartman. They didn't need music, they somehow created it together between them, perhaps to their own hearts.

While they slowly swayed in front of the fireplace, wrapped up in each other, Kyle realized something secretly to himself, something that he had never planned to happen in his life. Kyle Broflovski had undeniably fallen in love with this Nazi Commandant.